Undeniably Insane
by Fangirlno.90463
Summary: AU - In which Sumire is depressed, Mikan flirts with anything that moves, Anna is traumatized and apparently no one can drive. NatsumexMikanxRuka KokoxSumire
1. Chapter 1

**Hi there! This is my new and totally random story! I hope you enjoy. XD **

**(Please excuse the swearing, I'm a natural potty mouth and I couldn't help myself. Tee hee!)**

**Disclamier: I do not own Gakuen Alice or any associated characters and settings**

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><p><strong>Chapter one: If you were a Sunday morning, I'd punch you<strong>

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><p>"I CAN'T HANDLE THIS SHIT!"<p>

Mikan rolled around on ground clutching her stomach and spazzing out. Sumire summoned the energy to grab the remote and turned down the TV volume. She glanced over the back of the couch. Why was her cousin convulsing in her lounge room? I mean, sure, people tended to just show up at Sumire's house all the time, but this was Sunday morning. Everyone was still recovering from Saturday night on Sunday morning. Like Luna, who still had her bitching self in Sumire's bed, BTW. Sumire could understand why she would be reluctant to leave though. Sumire was loaded. It was a damn nice house. With a damn nice tenant. For reals.

Sumire grinned briefly, then addressed Mikan.

"When the fuck did you get here? And _how_?"

Mikan paused in her fit to look at Sumire and shrugged. "I dunno. I wanted food. I wanted someone to eat it with. Hotaru said no, like the ice-bitch she is, and I only had enough energy to make it to you. Your door was unlocked. Please, feed me."

Sumire blinked. Mikan blinked. Sumire raised an eyebrow. Mikan opened her mouth,

"I'm hungry."

"Let's go eat then."

"I love you. Marry me."

"Not while I'm hungry, babe. Maybe later."

Sumire sighed and heaved herself off the couch. She glanced down and considered changing out of her tracksuit pants and faded skivvy attire. Then decided she looked sexy anyway and she was too hungry (now that Mikan had mentioned it) to be bothered. She slipped a rubber band off her wrist and did up her dark green (it's natural. For reals) hair into a messy bun, with the curly bits hanging in her face, as usual.

It was one of those days. You know the kind where you wake up with a throbbing headache and the urge to throw your guts up after getting shit-faced the night before with a friend (who you knew was still passed out in your room) knowing you have to work in your condition and just think;

Why the fuck did I do that?

It had taken a stumble-fall down the stairs and a handful of coffee beans taken straight from the jar for Sumire to drag herself onto the couch. The TV had been turned on by Sumire's shit of a cat, Bungle, jokingly named Bitch-boy by her friends (cough-not-cough), who lived to make her hate him by stepping on a remote when she had a hang-over.

Sumire dug the heels of her hands into her eyes to stop the throbbing. It didn't work.

"I don't have any food here, because Hotaru, gluttonous pig that she is, ate it all Friday night. Let's head down to Ichio's. Misaki should be working by now."

Mikan pounced off the floor and wrapped her arms and legs around Sumire with a squeal of 'I love you'. Sumire observed her dryly. Then yawned tiredly.

"I thought you had to be either horny _or_ hungry. I didn't realise it came as a package deal."

Mikan pouted, "Just get me food and sex, gorgeous, or I'll blow a nut."

Sumire untangled herself from Mikan's limbs and sighed. "I am pretty gorgeous, even when I look like shit," she admitted tiredly. "But I am so not in the mood to be jumped, so hold your horses sweetheart and I'll hunt down my keys."

Sumire dragged herself across the room slowly, muttering and kneading her head angrily. Her life sucked. Really. Mikan bounced after her, the promise of food to come having dispelled her hunger-spasms. Sumire groaned. Usually Mikan was adorable, now her enthusiasm was painful. Mikan started searching draws with Sumire.

"So, why's Luna passed out in your room?"

Sumire glanced over shoulder. "Because the lazy cow was too drunk to get her fat arse home last night. And I didn't feel like driving her. And the bitch locked me out of said room."

Mikan hummed cheerfully as she cast a cursory glance over the many desks and subsequent draws spread through Sumire's entrance hall in search of the car keys. And she meant entrance hall. It had been eternally labelled as the Entrance Hall since Mikan had painted the words on the wall. She didn't remember doing it, but everyone said it was her.

Why did they let her drink that much? Meanies.

Sumire must have had the most kick-ass house she has ever seen. And the most kick-ass car. And the most kick-ass wardrobe. Pretty much everything Sumire had was kick-ass. And Mikan meant; kick. Ass. She continued her humming, with a severe mood jump. She cast a totally non-sympathetic glance at Sumire out of the corner of her eye. She _did_ look like shit.

"You do know you guys have gotta work tonight, right?"

"Shut up bitch. Don't remind me."

Sumire let out a triumphant cry when she retrieved her groping hand from the Entrance Hall fruit -bowl and a swish pair of keys were hanging from them. Mikan did a thrash-dance thing from the other side of the room and started singing. Loudly and without tune.

"IMA HUNGRY HUNGRY HIPPO! HUNGRY HUNGRY HIPPO!"

Sumire looked on emotionlessly. The pounding in her head increased a tenfold. Mikan . . . well, she was a retard. To put it nicely. Mikan increased in volume and Sumire narrowed her eyes against her inner pain. Shit, that metaphor fit her entire life, really.

"My god bitch. Shut-up-I-hate-you."

Sumire frowned. She seriously didn't remember deciding to voice her thoughts. Then she caught Mikan looking behind her in the direction of the staircase. Oh shit, that meant Luna was up. At least Mikan was no longer singing. The cow.

Sumire spun to look at the blonde girl at the top of the stairs. Luna glared back with bleary eyes through splayed fingers over her face. Whoa, and Sumire thought _she_ looked bad. Serves Luna right though. Sumire distinctly remembers being locked out of her own room and having to smash it in with the baseball she kept under the stairs. Her brother was going to kill her for that. Sumire inwardly groaned and imagined his face once he got back from his vacation thing with 'The guys'. So gay BTW. Why go on a vacation right before summer, anyway? He'd better have some way to make up for missing her graduation. Ass.

Then Sumire actually took in what Luna looked like from the neck down and was distracted.

". . . What the hell are you wearing?"

The girls stared at Luna. She was wearing nothing but one Sumire's brother's tank-tops and a pair of so-small-they-are-underwear short-shorts. Sumire would've sworn they were the ones Misaki gave her for Christmas last year. Sumire caught Mikan's innocently excited look out of the corner of her eye and groaned. Here it comes.

"Luna . . . Hawt damn, babe! Next time drop the shirt too!"

Luna managed a weak smirk, "Only for you, sexy-stuff."

Only Mikan could pull off flirting with all her friends and still looking like a doll. Undoubtedly, she was cute, and if she was offering, Sumire was single and so getting on that flight. For reals. Sumire sighed at the depravity of her thoughts and blamed it all on Mikan, Luna and Misaki. Those three were too much for anyone to escape unscathed. Suddenly a choking noise brought Sumire's attention back to Luna.

"Oh, fuck, I think I'm gonna puke."

"I'll hold your hair if you bang me."

Sumire decided this had to end. She had gone through all this effort to get Mikan food. She was bloody well gonna come and be fed.

"You will not be holding her hair, or banging her. You are coming with me. Luna get your ass to the bathroom and stay there."

"Jeez, Sumire, you're like one big cock-block, aren't you?"

Luna was going green now, but still managed to choke out, "She so is."

Sumire scowled angrily, her patience gone. She roughly snatched her sunnies off the shoebox next to the doors Mikan had left open when she had invaded Sumire's house.

"Mikan, get in the damn car. Luna, I swear if you are still in this house by the time I get back, I refuse to drive you home from work, and you can walk, and be assaulted."

Mikan sighed cheerily. "See you later babe!" She called up the stairs, and then vanished out the door. Sumire heard her start up another chorus of 'Hungry Hippo' on her way to the car. She let her scowl deepen and glanced at Luna, who was leaning on the banisters for support with a face as green as her pretty, pretty eyes. Or Sumire's hair (which was natural).

"I thought you said stay in the bathroom."

"Don't get smart with me bitch. Or I'll be telling my brother you have a thing for him."

Luna went even greener and her mouth dropped open with 'pop'.

"_What? _How_- WHEN!_"

"I drink like a fish; you can't hold your liquor. Naturally I heard your drunken confessions before I, myself, was drunk. But seriously, my brother? He's a total douch-bag."

Luna slumped, completely defeated. God her day was going to be shit. From the way this morning was going, she could tell. Sumire waved mock-happy at her and walked out the door, slamming it behind her and only just catching the mutter that floated after her.

"_Fuck my life_ _. . ._"

**xxXOXxx**

"Hey Sumi?"

The morning sun was glinting off the hideously neon yellow Volkswagen in front of her, and Sumire squinted through the glare. She was in a prolonged bad mood because the old coot in the driver's seat was taking forever to start his car up and GET THE FUCK OUT OF SUMIRE'S PARKING SPOT BEFORE SHE LOST HER TEMPER AND RAMMED HIS FUCKING CAR. Or something like that. Really, old people were a hazard on the road. And kind of annoying. And she was attempting to ignore Mikan.

"Suuuumi?"

Sumire closed her eyes and let them rest against the window. It was soothingly cool against the side of her head. Ignore her. Just ignore her.

"SUMI!"

That was the last straw. The last. For reals.

"WHAT?"

"WHY DON'T YOU JUST PARK OVER THERE?"

"WHY DON'T YOU JUMP OFF A CLIFF AND SAVE ME THE TROUBLE OF PUSHING YOU?"

"HEY! I WAS JUST TRYING TO HELP!"

"WELL DON'T!"

"Why are you yelling?"

Sumire paused in the middle of a huge breath to stare at a wide-eyed Mikan. She was perched on the edge of her seat with no seat belt on and her phone in her hand. She had on her denim short shorts and white tank-top because Mikan didn't understand the concept of cold and dressing weather appropriate was beyond her. For reals. Her hair was twisted up in the knot on the back of her head that made her look like a sex goddess, and if Sumire was into that kind of thing, she would so be flirting her trackies off right know.

"Jeez, Sumi, You're _weird_."

Okay, maybe not. Or something like that.

"I hate you. Go die."

"Not until I get a fucking sandwich. Or something. I don't care, as long as it's food. For reals."

The old man had finally driven his wizened butt out of her parking space, and Sumire had to agree with that. "Well let's go then." She parked quickly, ignoring the crash that signified her smashing her bumper on the curb. She flipped Mikan off casually as they got out of the car when she started to giggle crazily as only Mikan could.

"You just screwed your car."

"You just screwed your face."

"How would you do that? I mean, it's totally impossible. I'm not a contortion-thingy. I can't do that sort of thing with my spine."

Sumire snorted as she shoved open the glass doors to Ichio's. Ichio's was their hang-out. You wanted to find Sumire or her friends, first check Ichio's, and then Sumire's house. If you still can't find them, check a morgue. Or something like that. No really, it was the cafe-bistro thing where a majority of them worked, and happened to have the best damn food in Tokyo.

At affordable prices.

For reals.

Ha-ha, sales pitch syndrome. A syndrome commonly contracted from prolonged contact with Hotaru Imai. Ice Queen and bitch extraordinaire. For reals.

Ichio's was only just opening up. Only a few tables here and there in the large space were occupied by customers. Sumire cursed that she was up so early on a Sunday morning. She hated her life. Really. Sumire sighed in relief when caught sight of a familiar figure with dark pink-red hair leaning against the counter as they walked in. Apparently Mikan did too, because she squealed. Good, now she was distracted. Sumire slouched behind her friend-thing (Maybe. She really didn't know anymore).God should be paying her to live this life. For reals.

"Misaki, babe! Where have you been all my life?"

Misaki looked over her shoulder as she leaned against the bar and raised one eyebrow with a grin Sumire was all too familiar with. A fellow friend-flirt with no shame. God help them all. Or something like that.

"I dunno honey, but let's make up for lost time!" She hollered back, making the bartender she was conversing with grin. They reached the bar, ignoring odd looks from the other customers. Mikan immediately took Misaki's words to heart and started a flirt-rage.

"Do you always dress like that, or were you thinking of me this morning?" she said with a wink and hair flip.

Misaki smirked back. "Are you always this frisky in the mornings, or am I too much for your self-control?" Mikan giggled flirtatiously and let her eyes run up and down Misaki's work outfit and waitress apron.

Sumire slid onto a bar stool and let her head rest against her propped up hand. Her eyes were closed and she waited for Mikan to stop flirting and demand food. Nonoko grinned at her, polishing a glass.

"Rough morning?"

Sumire opened one eye lazily. Nonoko was about as sensible and normal as her friends got. Despite her blue (natural. For reals) hair. She was also the smart one, ignoring Hotaru (and you totally had to because Hotaru was shamelessly . . . unpleasant), being into chemistry and stuff. Sumire closed her eye again.

"You have no idea. Where's Anna?" Nonoko whistled for moment, then took in Sumire's obvious wince. She subtly stopped.

"In the back getting changed. If it makes you feel any better, I think she's hung-over too."

Sumire raised her eyebrows. Anna was sweet. Innocent in reality (unlike Mikan who just pretended so she could flirt). A little bit uptight and goody-goody. Sumire didn't even realise she drunk alcohol when Hotaru wasn't there to blackmail her.

"Anna?"

"Yep."

"Like, _how_?"

"She stayed with Mikan and Hotaru last night. I think it was the only thing she felt she could turn to in that kind of situation."

Sumire felt her stomach drop to her knees. "Anna? Alone with Mikan, _and_ Hotaru?"

Nonoko nodded regretfully, her expression dubious. Sumire couldn't imagine it. An entire night with just the two most psychotic people Sumire knew. Poor Anna. And Sumire wasn't one for sympathy. On a note that pissed her off, how could Mikan spend a night drinking and come out fine? Life was not fucking fair. Nonoko continued talking as she caught sight of a pink-haired girl emerging from the far end of the bar.

"She stumbled home at about six, so I'm guessing she left as soon as she woke up. Hopefully that'll minimize the amount of mental scarring. Though she screamed when she saw a crab on the cooking channel."

Sumire bit her lip tiredly. "Yeah, well, I can understand that. How ya going, bub?" The girl she had addressed look up as walked towards them. Sumire winced. Shit, Anna did not look good.

"I have decided that Mikan and Hotaru are bloody mental. And evil," she answered hoarsely, wincing under the soft lighting over the bar. Nonoko shrugged. "I tried to warn you, An." The girl glared with unusual venom.

"Not. Hard. Enough."

Sumire yawned and shrugged as nonchalantly as Nonoko.

"You should've known better. This is Mikan we're talking about."

"What about me? Oh, hey Anna!"

Misaki had gone off to actually work. Or something. So now Mikan's attention was fixed on them. Oh god. Sumire indulged in some unholy amusement watching Anna's face pale. She should have more common sense than that anyway. For reals.

"I gotta work!"

Sumire watched Anna yelp and flee, grabbing menus and a few trays on the fly. Mikan watched with a pouty expression, obviously displeased with both Anna's disappearance that morning and her blatant running away now. After all the fun they had last night too!

"Mou. Oh! Good morning Nono!" Nonoko laughed and grabbed two glasses from under the counter. Setting them on the bar, she filled one with coke and the other with iced water.

"Hiya Mikan."

Mikan glanced at her coke and frowned. Then she remembered the whole reason she was here.

"Food!"

Sumire twitched and went to start downing her water. Nonoko raised her eyebrows.

"What about it?"

"I want some."

"As always. Why is it you and Hotaru aren't fat?"

Mikan met Nonoko's eyes solemnly. Nonoko paused for a moment to blink. Sumire twitched again.

"Because then we wouldn't be sexy. Now feed me."

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><p><strong>So what did you think? If you liked, I actually have a plot for this story, and the boys will come in soon because I love them. Especially Koko. God I love Koko. and Kitsu. Togehter. For reals. <strong>

**(Such a stupid phrase but I love it)**

**So, drop me a review if you have time and I'll get the next chapter up quicker! XD**

**PS: I don't know why, but the idea of Mikan as a flirt makes me laugh. And I like Luna and Sumire. I don't see any need to make them bad guys**


	2. Chapter 2

**Heyy everybody! This is the second chapter, I'm sorry it took so long. Anywho, I hope you like the story so far! I'm sorry the boys still don't show up yet, but I'm working on it! **

**Please review if you liked! It gives me motivation and I'm lazy otherwise . . . heheh ;)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Gakuen Alice or any associated characters and settings**

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><p><strong>Chapter two: Planning parties an' shit<strong>

Mikan slouched in the corner of Ichio's biggest booth-table-thing and giggled. She had booze, sexiness and some glittery friends. She loved her glittery friends. And she loved her life. When she drunk, at least. Or absolutely shit-faced. But that doesn't matter, because Mikan just doesn't get hung-over. Totally unnatural, maybe, but she never has and it looks like she never will. Or something like that. Who cares anyway? There are like three Sumires all of a sudden, and Mikan wants to chat them all up at the same time. Because Sumire is _hot_. And her favouritest cousin. And that would be some kind of record.

For reals.

"Mikan, your eyes are crossing," Sumire observed frankly.

"Tee hee!"

Mikan hiccupped and slouched back into her seat, suddenly not interested in chatting Sumire up. She stared up at the roof with hazy eyes and started wondering how she was going to explain to Hotaru why she had thrown out her crab this morning. Maybe it was because Hotaru was being pissy and threw her howalon in the fire. Or something like that . . .

Sumire watched her absolutely pissed friend-thing in amusement. She was feeling better now, and suddenly her life didn't seem to suck so much. Maybe. She flipped open her phone, pushing aside a pile of dirty dishes aside to place it on the table. Offering to shout Mikan food usually leads to a day long buffet of stuff that would probably give anyone else diabetes. But Mikan was weird like that. And so was Hotaru, wherever her black soul was residing now.

Speaking of where people were. She should probably go pick up Luna now. Work started in a half-hour, and the bitch couldn't drive. Actually, it seemed neither could Mikan, Hotaru and Nonoko. But oh well. She wanted to get out of this place anyway. It was getting busy.

_Gonna cum (o.o dirty) get u bitch. Move and u die._

Sumire sent the text and got up, stretching luxuriously. With a sparing glance at the inebriated Mikan, Sumire figured she wasn't going anywhere. Mikan was a pain, but she knew what was good for her. Most of the time.

Sliding between tables towards the bar, Sumire regularly checked Mikan was where she had left her. When she reached the bar, she waited until Nonoko was working up her end before calling out.

"I'm taking Mikan home now. See you later."

Nonoko spared her a fleeting glance as she juggled glasses and otherwise used her awesome mad scientist powers to mix and pour at lighting speed. Or something. The girl was a fricken _ninja_ at glass pouring. Sumire appreciated Nonoko's sanity, regardless.

"Good luck with that. Hotaru ain't gonna be happy if take her back like that."

"Urgh, don't remind me."

Sumire walked back to the booth she had lazed around in for the best part of the day. Mikan was still collapsed in the corner, even drooling a little bit. She still managed to look damn hot. If she had more time to hang around, Sumire might be tempted to flirt. As it was, she needed her attention.

"Mikan, babe. I want to take you home," she drawled amusedly.

Mikan uncrossed her eyes long enough to stumble to her feet and sling an arm around Sumire's shoulders. Well she tried and missed. Sumire slung the arm for her.

"I don't- don't, uh. Norm'ly do that . . . uh, yeah. Be ge'tle wif me."

Sumire couldn't help the urge to laugh that welled up in her as Mikan slurred her words. Then Mikan fell half-asleep on her shoulder and Sumire fought the urge to swear. This kid was fucking heavy! Maybe instead of getting fat, all the food she ate just increased her density. For reals.

Sumire ignored the looks she got for dragging a passed-out, drunk teenage-girl through a crowded bistro at six o'clock at night. She was so used to this crap. Wow, that was frightening. But true.

For reals.

Misaki had to laughingly open the door for them. Sumire wanted to punch her.

"Have fun girls! Remember to play it safe!"

She got nothing more than the bird from Sumire and some drunken, drowsy mumbles from Mikan that may have been something along the lines of 'like a boss. For reals'.

**xxXOXxx**

"On three. Do it slow."

"Don't be so nervous babe; you know it'll come good in the end."

Sumire blinked at Luna for a moment. Her arms were looped under Mikan's holding her head off the ground. Luna was holding her legs. Sumire had decided to pick Luna up first as reinforcements when Mikan had started snoring in the front seat. She was so not facing Hotaru by herself. She sighed at her co-worker, then raised an eyebrow.

"Really. You wanna go there _now_?"

"You know me. Always in the mood."

"You're not gonna be in the mood when Hotaru rips your balls off."

"Oh, so now you wanna talk about my sausage and potatoes?"

Sumire closed her eyes for a moment and told herself she only had to last a few more minutes until Luna's help was no longer needed. Then she could run her over with a car. Or something like that. She figured that nobody would miss Luna. She was kind of maybe a total bitch most of the time. And when she wasn't bitching she was either flirting or sleeping.

With a few more heaving steps, they reached the door of Hotaru and Mikan's apartment thing. Yeah. Good thing it was on the second floor. Or something. It would have been worse if it was the third because Mikan is_ heavy_. And she eats like a horse. And she's not fat. And life was so not fair. So. Not. Fair.

For reals.

Luna let one of Mikan's legs drop to the floor and reached over to press the doorbell-buzzer-com thing that Hotaru had made years ago. Really. If Hotaru's heart wasn't shrivelled and black and there wasn't merely a void where her good intentions should be, the girl could be famous for her invention thingies. Then she could buy all the food she wanted (Pig) without having to threaten her 'friends'. Quite frankly, Hotaru didn't do friends, just Mikan (her relationship with Mikan has got to be the weirdest thing Luna had ever seen. And she's _Luna_) and servants.

Jeez, and people said Luna was a bitch.

The door swung open and Luna felt hell freeze over.

Hotaru observed the scene in front of her. Sumire, Luna and Mikan. A Mikan who was drunk and passed-out and obviously not taking her turn to cook dinner. In fact, her state probably meant Hotaru would have to care of her tonight. Even make sure she's okay in the morning. If Hotaru let the moron stay here tonight (disregarding the fact that Mikan lived here, too), she would become responsible for her drunken state.

Like hell Hotaru was doing that, my friends. Like hell.

The door made a lovely slamming sound as she closed it in their faces.

Sumire fought the urge to screech and claw at her eyes in frustration. This was so not her day-night-both-thing –whatever-don't- question-her-_god_.

"C'mon, Hotaru! Look after her for one night, you bitch-pig! It won't kill you!"

"Don't be like that, sweetheart! Isn't she your best friend?"

Hotaru settled herself back on the couch, deep within the depths of her apartment and continued eating her crab (which she'd had to buy more of. Thanks Mikan). She was ignoring the bangs on the door and pleads to her better nature. Eventually they'd give up and leave Mikan sprawled on the doorstep. And then Hotaru would have to go grab her to stop the neighbours getting a bad impression. And because it's Mikan. And because nobody else would agree to be Hotaru's roommate and then she'd have to spend more money on rent and less on food. And Hotaru didn't like spending money full stop.

Regardless, Mikan was buying her breakfast tomorrow. And lunch. And dinner.

She'd say 'for reals' here, but that would make her a moron. And Hotaru did not sink to that level.

**xxXOXxx**

"Poopy-pie-fudge-crackle-snot!"

". . . What?"

"Now that I have your attention-"

"-You could have just said 'hey Anna, can I talk to you?'"

"Where's the fun in that?"

Misaki grinned at her friend. Said friend looked back in wordless trepidation. Well, Misaki had been hoping for excitement, but Anna was such a dear she'll overlook it. Misaki leaned over to wipe down, yet another, table. Why couldn't these people get the goddamn food in their mouths? It's like they pay to spread plates of food across the tables. Probably do.

In fact, they probably wait outside so that they can laugh at Misaki cleaning up their _filth_. Bastards. For reals.

"Didn't you have something to tell me?" Anna muttered as she wiped down her own table. Misaki blinked at her.

"I just wanted to tell you that you're driving me home. Thought you should know."

"How did you get here if you didn't drive?"

". . . I actually don't know."

Misaki flounced off with Anna's eyes on her back. Really, sometimes Anna wished Misaki had never met Mikan. Because, come on, she's Mikan Sakura, and you don't escape meeting her the same as you were before you met her. She was like bombshell. Anna wondered what it was like for Yuka, attempting to raise Mikan. Then remembered that Yuka was just as bad as her daughter, but smarter. Anna sighed; why was she friends with such suss people? It was probably Nonoko's fault. Her sister was the older one and more responsible.

"Anna-pie! Nono-bug! Come here my pets!"

Anna sighed and collected her cleaning rags, making a bee line for the bar. If she was driving both her friends home anyway (seriously, why can't anyone but Sumire drive?) she might as well listen to whatever Misaki had to say. It was probably ridiculous, and involved making Mikan's day and sending Sumire insane. Or something. Sometimes Anna felt really bad for Sumire (and herself) because everyone else they knew was so _weird_.

Anna slumped against the counter and threw down her cleaning rag with something like relief. This job was _hard_ goddammit. Nonoko yawned as though echoing her thoughts and continued her counting of the money in the register. Anna wondered for a moment what would happen if Hotaru was ever around at closing up time. What with all that money being flung around before it was counted. Then Anna stopped thinking about that because she could imagine all to well what it would be like and she was close to crapping her pants at the thought.

"Soooo, I was thinking . . ."

"That's a surprise."

"Soooo, I was thinking before Nono interrupted me that we should have a party tomorrow."

Anna leaned her head on her hand and wondered wether she could handle another party. She did like spending time with friends. And Sumire had an awesome kitchen. And they always let her cook because no one but her could. Mikan and Hotaru don't count because they stuff they cook would make any normal person diabetic. For reals.

"Does Sumire know about this yet?" Nonoko inquired amusedly. She was having fun imagining Sumire's face already. The girl spent her life perpetually exasperated. And depressed. It was funny.

Misaki frowned at her. "Why would I do that? She'd just complain. Besides she'll find out tomorrow."

Anna bit her lip worriedly. "But what if she's got something planned?" Nonoko laughed and Misaki snorted. Misaki continued her snort and smoothly made it a comment.

"Since when has Sumire ever got anything planned?"

When you put it that way . . .

"Fair enough! I'm in," Anna exclaimed cheerfully. Oh tomorrow was going to be so much fun!

BTW it was just a matter of fact that any social event planned between them was at Sumire's. Mostly because the girl's parents had left them a freaking mansion while they gallivanted across the globe as star struck tourists, but also because it was, by general consensus, the most kick-ass house in existence. Or something. But Anna had to say it was an awesome house. With an awesome kitchen.

Tee hee.

**xxXOXxx**

The doorbell rang through the large house, bouncing off the walls and echoing all the way to a green-haired girl sitting on the couch in the upstairs lounge room. Said green-haired girl rolled out of her makeshift bed of pillows and blankets and sat up sluggishly. Her foot rested against a brown ball of fur and she blinked at it; disorientated, as the unnecessarily loud doorbell continued to ring. After a moment of gathering her bearings, Sumire stood up and began her trek to the front door.

That doorbell was obnoxiously loud, and annoying. Sumire was so not in the mood right now (was she ever?) because she was tired. And she was tired because she slept (not really slept, because it was uncomfortable) on the couch last night (hence the pillows and blankets) because the last person to sleep in her bed had been Luna and she hadn't had time yet (translation, could not bothered to) to change the sheets on said bed and Sumire did not want to catch Luna's aura of butt-tard.

After a stumble-fall encounter with the stairs (because seriously, Sumire never has any encounters with stairs that aren't stumble-fall) Sumire gimped across The Entrance Hall and opened the door.

"Hello Sumi!"

"Took you long enough. _God_."

"Babe, you look hawt!"

"Is Mikan here? If she's not I think Hotaru may have murdered her."

"As if I'd waste the effort."

Sumire looked at Nonoko, Luna, Misaki, Anna and Hotaru and suddenly she felt like crying. Or dying. Or just banging her head on the wall until she fell into a coma. Speaking of comas she should probably clear something up.

"Hotaru didn't murder her. Sadly. She cleared out my pantry and then disappeared, so she's probably in a food-coma somewhere in the kitchen area. I dunno, I haven't seen her for hours."

Her own set of demons (except maybe Nono and Anna) marched past her into the house as though it was their fucking right. Sumire thought about protesting, then caught sight of some vodka in Luna's possession and decided, fuck, they never listen to her anyway. She'll hang around long enough to get the booze then go hide in an airing cupboard and drink it all while she waited for her air to run out and for her slow and painful death that could not be more painful than her friend-things. Or something.

**xxXOXxx**

Hotaru went straight for the kitchen with vengeance in her heart. She had come expecting to be able to eat for free, and now she hears Mikan has beaten her to it? The baka was in for the beating of her life, and then some nice and devoted servitude of Hotaru's every need. Yes, that sounds nice.

Once again Hotaru shall remind you she does not say such stupid things as 'for reals'.

**xxXOXxx**

As usual, everybody decided that it was just not worth getting in Hotaru's way, even for Mikan's sake. Misaki flounced off to go die (hopefully) or maybe she was just heading for the movie cabinet. Either way, Sumire hated her. She stumble-falled up the stairs and around the corner back to her pillow fort and cat. Nonoko, Anna and Luna followed her because they had nothing else to do and no lives outside destroying Sumire's.

Anna frowned at the squishy and infinitely comfortable place the lounge had suddenly become. "Why aren't you camped in your room?" she asked. Sumire just looked at her.

"Because the last person to spend time in it was Luna."

Luna whistled as she hiked over to the second fridge and dumped her bottles in it. She called over her shoulder just as cheerfully.

"Butt-tard aura is not contagious. Just putting it out there."

Sumire snorted and allowed Nonoko to put a comforting arm around her shoulder. It was so contagious, and besides, she didn't want to take a chance and find out. She slipped out from Nonoko's arm and stumbled back to her couch tiredly. Sitting down, she realised the thing under her butt was squirming and not very comfortable. Considering that Bungle was still curled up at the opposite end of the couch, the living thing she was sitting on could be only one person.

"When the _fuck_ did you get up here? And _how_?"

Mikan squirmed some more and poked her head out of the blankets drowsily. The fat-but-not-really-fat-pig-face was obviously still recovering from her food coma.

"I'm not one to complain about a girl on top of me, but this isn't a good time, Sumi."

Sumire wordlessly picked up a spare pillow and thumped Mikan in the face with it. She was so throwing this bitch to the wolves (Hotaru).

For reals.

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><p><strong>Did you like it? If so, then I repeat, please review. Also, forgive any typos, I keep missing them! :(<strong>

**Anyway, I'll try to get the next chapter up as quick as I can, laters! XD**


	3. Chapter 3

**Heyy Everybody! Sorry for the uh, late update but I'm kinda a shallow person who gets really excited about updating but doesn't have the motivation to write the material with which to update, so yeah. Sorry :) **

**To my amazing reviewers, I love you all. Thank you so much for the taking the time out of your day to not only read my story, but review it too. I appreciate it cause I know just how easy it is to read a story and just click the back button when you're done. Constructive criticism is always welcome and I love to know what you guys think (do you like it/not like it? What do you like/not like?) so I can improve. Also please forgive any typos, I proof read, but sometimes I miss things and I don't have a beta.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Gakuen Alice or any associated fictional characters and settings**

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><p>.<p>

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Okay, maybe it had been a teensy bit harsh (the word brutal could be potentially be used here) to throw Mikan to a hungry Hotaru. Though god knows the girl undoubtedly deserved it, Sumire (with her sweet, compassionate, maidenly heart) was feeling just the smallest bit guilty as she watched her cousin slump on the floor in a puddle of drool. Her eyes were decidedly crossed, and would most likely remain that way for quite a while. Sumire recalled Hotaru's wrath with a shudder. Seriously, even Luna had flinched, and Luna was a heartless bitch.

"ARGH!"

Sumire glanced up from her indisposed cousin to the plasma screen; the female protagonist's boyfriend had just met an unfortunate end at the hands of an axe murderer. Blood splattered all over the camera for dramatic effect. It looked like tomato sauce, but it wasn't really as tasteful. She grimaced as Misaki hollered her support.

"That's right you swanky bitch! Die!"

"That's horrible, Misaki! They were really in love!" Sobbed Anna in reply, receiving comfort from an obviously amused Nonoko. Sumire's eye twitched. At least Hotaru wasn't here to watch the horror movie; she'd probably decide that Mikan hadn't been punished enough and axe her. Hotaru definitely did not require extra inspiration to be murderous. Sumire would know. Or rather, Sumire's cousin would (should, but probably wouldn't have the foresight to remember).

"That actress has the most fail boob job I've ever seen in my life," Luna commented, as if anyone ever listened to her or gave a damn what she thought. The presumptuousness of it all. Sumire buried her face in her pillow and waited for the world to end. Or at least her life. Whichever came first was fine with her. For reals. Seriously, her lounge was now a mass of pillows, blankets, retards sprawled all over each other because they had a weird love of skin ship, popcorn, alcohol and d-grade horror films. What did she have left to live for, if this was how she'd been spending her Sunday nights for the past nine years?

"You know I've been thinking . . ."

There was a collective gasp as Mikan rolled into a semi-dignified position (for her. Which was not very dignified at all) and decided to voice her thoughts (as was the norm for Mikan). Her eyes still crossed occasionally, but it seemed now she was capable of speech and her brain was working as much as it ever did. Sumire waited for the next announcement that would undoubtedly involve them going somewhere together for an extended period of time because school was out and no one had anything to do for the next couple of months (except Misaki, who was older than them all by about four years but was a creeper and had no friends her own age and had decided to do a long-distance college course because she would probably be kicked out if anyone with authority ever met her in person) and then Sumire would want to dig a hole and jump in it. Or off a cliff. Whichever was closer.

"We should go on a holiday and meet up with Sumire's brother at the beach!"

And there we go. Sumire choked back a sob. Maybe she really should go find an airing cupboard.

"Really? After last time, I don't think either Sumire or Anna have the capacity to endure it," Nonoko commented cheerfully. Anna protested half-heartedly, "Hey, I've handled it for the past nine years!"

Luna scoffed, "What about last night sweetie?" Anna flinched and went white and started making the sign to ward off the devil on her chest. Mikan once again missed the implication that she was a horrible, bad, bad person-monster-thing and continued on with her brilliant (in her opinion) train of thought. Which was not really brilliant at all and _god_ why did Sumire do this to herself?

"I was just thinking that it would be fun and there would be hot guys and we're hot and we could all look hot together," she chirped. Sumire blinked when she met a pair of crossed brown eyes. Mikan clambered to her feet clumsily and stood firmly planted in front of the TV screen, her fat (but not really dammit) butt blocking Sumire's entire view. Sumire fingered the remote thoughtfully. How much more damage could she do with a remote that Hotaru hadn't already done? It's not as if anything that Mikan's mind produced was considered useful or productive anyway . . .

"Actually, I've decided. Everyone's going except Luna cause she sucks and probably wants the house all to herself for when Sumire's brother comes home-"

"I'll let it be known here that this house actually belongs to me," Sumire interjected.

"-and really no one wants her around. All that's left now is to decide where to stay. I don't have any money so I suggest we all mooch off Sumire!" She beamed. And then promptly went down with a thud as the TV remote collided with her forehead. Sumire gazed dispassionately at her prone form. Bitch had it coming.

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Yuka Azumi was a mostly easy-going woman (a habit picked up from her overtly frivolous husband in her youth. He grew out of his ways, she did not). This would probably be why the thought of her teenaged daughter skipping off on a beach holiday with her posse of irresponsible friends to stalk equally irresponsible teenaged boys and shack up had not overtly bothered her. To be honest there was nothing Mikan could get up to on holiday that she could not manage at home. Just to be sure she had spoken to Mr. and Mrs. Imai, who had allowed Hotaru to join the party. They assured her that anyone remotely shady to approach the girls would be immediately taken down in a likely very painful manner (Yuka had expressed her delight in this sentiment and received nothing but long-suffering sighs from the Imais). And so reassured, she had agreed to Mikan's plan, ignoring the several mentions of intended sexual behavior that her darling girl forgot to edit out of her persuasions.

Yuka whistled a jaunty show tune and flipped over a finished pancake, placing it on a steadily growing pile of delicious flat breakfast foods. Considering the pile looked big enough to feed eight people, it may seem excessive. But Yuka knew it was not, because she was cooking for her daughter, and her baby was the equivalent of a medium-sized football team when it came to food consumption. She heard a confused exclamation from said daughter float down the stairs as she finalized her packing. Yuka smiled cheerily and continued her whistling. Now Yuka was mostly easy-going enough to accept that her darling was growing up and wanted to see the world free of parent supervision, but that did not mean that she could not take a few small steps towards ensuring her daughter's protection. Quite literally.

"Mum! Are these condoms yours?"

"No darling, I bought them for your trip!"

Silence.

"Thanks!"

Yuka set the table with a satisfied smile on her face. Izumi would be so proud of her foresight when he returned from his brother's house (for yet another one of those ridiculous meetings about finance and running companies. Honestly, it would be nice to have someone other than Mikan eat her pancakes for once).

"I'm packed!" Sang Mikan delightedly from the top of the stairs. Yuka Sakura-Azumi-Yukihara smiled indulgently at her eldest child, and returned to serving breakfast. Mikan bounded downstairs without a trip stumble experience (somewhere four blocks away Sumire felt an annoyingly mocking chill go down her spine as she ate breakfast and attempted to strangle herself with her new gag-gift garter from Misaki. Like the first four times in the past hour, it didn't work) and presented herself and her luggage to her mother. Yuka smiled indulgently once again, in the face of three suitcases, two carry-on bags and a purse that looked suspiciously like hers. She dropped the plate of pancakes on the table.

"Is Sumire picking you up dear? I have to give Yoichi a lift to cinemas in an hour, so I can't drive you to her house," She said cheerfully. Mikan answered just as cheerfully, "Yep, she's picking me up. We've got to go find food for my babies before we meet with everyone else." Yuka cooed affectionately.

"You remembered by yourself! You used to always forget unless someone reminded you. Oh, my little girl all grown up and going on holiday!"

"Aw, mum! C'mon, don't be all cheesy," replied Mikan with a bashful grin as she tucked into the pancakes. The conversation continued along the lines of cheesy reminiscing and gentle teasing and all sorts of happy little family jokes and cute little nicknames and teasing. It was adorable and lovely and a picture perfect image of a mother and daughter enjoying breakfast together and entirely ruined by the tired, not a morning person appearance of Mikan's little brother.

"Jesus, it's like the fucking Brady bunch in here. Should I find my tight pants and technicolor shirts? Where's the hairdresser? I need Greg's pubic afro to truly pull it off." Both women watched Yoichi slouch into the room with a bed head and jeans. Just jeans; he had apparently forgotten his shirt, which wasn't really unusual for Yoichi. He spent quite a lot of his life sleeping and preparing to sleep. He slouched into one of the chairs and gave a customary 'feed me' glare to Yuka, who giggled sweetly. Mikan passed him the pancakes with a big grin and a kiss on the cheek.

"We don't have enough people for the Brady bunch silly," she said patronizingly. "The whole point of that show is that there are eight of them." Yoichi met her smile with a blank look. "If we count you as five, which you could totally pull off, then our family's actually a perfect fit. Except neither dad nor me are gibbering idiots." There were a few twitching moments of silence, then Yoichi was back where he liked to be the most; dreamland. Mikan lowered her plate to the table and Yuka returned her frying pan to the stove.

"I think you singed his hair."

"I think you cracked that plate."

"Hmm. The pancakes were nice."

"Thank you, I'm glad you liked them."

A beep sounded from the foot path outside. Mikan bounced to her feet and collected her luggage in a tower of precariously balanced items.

"Bye bye mama!"

"Have a safe trip sweetie!"

The door shut behind Mikan with satisfying thud. Yuka started humming again; Yoichi had yet to stir from his double knock-out, so she would have plenty of time to clean up before he was ready to go anywhere. Oh her darling boy, he was nothing like herself or Izumi. Actually, he was quite a bit like Kaoru's eldest child. They had gotten along well as children. Speaking of which, Natsume was down at the beach for summer too. Perhaps she should have mentioned it to Mikan. Her daughter had been clearly infatuated with him last time they'd met, even though it'd been scant year since Natsume returned from French boarding school and that time she'd been a tender twelve. Yuka was so caught up in her own musings she didn't hear the phone ringing until Yoichi croaked out a dazed "Phone's ringing," from behind her. She smiled at him in thanks and swept it from its cradle.

"Hello, Yuka speaking."

"What's this I hear about you sending Mikan to the beach alone, without adult supervision with those hellions she calls friends to pick up boys and have sex with someone inappropriate and get pregnant and end up as a single mother with a hoard of children with no income forced to rely on government hand-outs to the pay the landlord money because she can't find a husband because she has grey hair and wrinkles and wears yellow cardigans even though she's only twenty five?"

"Hello dear," Yuka chirped affectionately. "It's all okay, though. You sound a bit silly to be honest. Goodness, how can you believe I wouldn't take any precautions?"

Izumi sounded somewhat less frantic and maybe a tiny bit hopeful. "You did?"

Yuka beamed. "Don't worry. Mikan doesn't get hung-over, I slipped a whole bunch of condoms into her bags to last her the week and I've already made sure she's on the pill. No amount of nightly shenanigans could impregnate or immobilize our daughter," she said soothingly. Behind her Yoichi choked on his pancakes and on the other end of the phone line Izumi was making suspicious noises. The kind of noises one makes when having an aneurism, or perhaps some kind of apoplectic fit (probably a heart attack). Yuka laughed at both of them.

"Silly boys; I have it all under control."

"MUM!"

"YUKA!"

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"I'm walking on sunshine, wo-oah! I'm walking on sunshine, wo-"

"You'll be walking on the road, all the way back home if you don't shut up."

Mikan turned down the radio instantly. Sumire generally meant what she said, and Mikan could only take so much exercise in one week (she was saving her strength for the walk from their hotel to the beach and back, which would happen minimum of five times at least, and has she already mentioned she can't exercise that much? How would she find time to eat if she did? Ah, life was indeed a mystery for her to puzzle out. She wondered how other people did it, like Misaki, who was always going somewhere but at the same time always wherever everyone else was even though no one was moving around except Misaki. Mikan's brain started to hurt and she decided to focus on more simple, important things. Like food, and her babies, and her babies' food).

"Hotaru, do you think The Terminator and Britney Spears will eat the home brand mix if I get it?"

"They're **your** guinea pigs. They'll eat their own poo first if it comes to it," Hotaru griped back, which was an improvement from her earlier reaction of either ignoring all comments addressed to her or shooting the messenger quite literally with a plastic gun she had thrown together from a discarded potty, some rubber bands and whatever else she'd nicked from Sumire's attic which shot a marble at whoever was on the receiving end of her wrath. Hotaru didn't understand why it was necessary to leave before noon. It had taken the combined intellect of Sumire, Nonoko, Anna and Misaki (and a healthy dose of Mikan's bravery-cough-stupidity to tempt her from the confines of her mad scientist factory of doom-cough-room.

Sumire frowned at Hotaru in the rearview mirror. "Why wouldn't they eat home brand mix if they'd eat their own poo?" Hotaru snorted in disgust and turned away to polish her gun. Sumire eyed the weapon and wisely took the opportunity to avoid harm and ask Mikan instead. Mikan just looked back at her, totally serious, no jokes, and no outward signs of dementia.

"Britney Spears makes a squeaky noise when I don't feed her 'Pedigree Guinea', and then she tries to eat The Terminator instead, and then The Terminator fights back and tries to terminate her because Britney's lost the plot and is going down the shop to get her groceries with no pants on. When Britney survives, The Terminator tries to go back in time to before Britney Spears was crazy and stop her going off the rails and losing her terrific career to a storm of 'Pedigree Guinea' addicted shenanigans."

Sumire opened her mouth, and then closed it. Then opened it again and began to say something. She abruptly thought better of it and closed her mouth. Then she pondered for a moment. Her brows pulled together in confusion.

"So why can't they eat home brand?"

"Cause then not only would all the shenanigans occur, but things would be exploding too."

"Huh."

Sumire's brain silently imploded under the weight of her cousin's stupidity and she pulled up in front of the pet shop in a daze. Mikan obliviously flashed her trademark smile and flounced into the store with reckless abandon that had many a passer-by readying themselves to call emergency services in the event that she cracked her face walking into a glass door. Mikan disappeared into the store and the car fell to silence. Sumire fought the urge to crack her head against the steering wheel and end it all. The drive to the beach was three hours. Three hours of non-stop, restless, bored and unabashedly retarded Mikan. Why? Why was it always her job to handle Mikan? Of course one could argue it was actually Hotaru's job to handle Mikan as her roommate but then Sumire would just cry because she was handling Hotaru and Mikan, though Hotaru rarely needed handling (unless you wanted to handle your way to an early grave) unless Mikan was around anyway.

"You do realize if we drove off right now, she'd be forced to go in Nonoko's car?"

Sumire glanced over her seat at Hotaru. She was still fiddling with the gun in lap, but staring straight at Sumire. They exchanged looks for a few crucial seconds. Without a word, Sumire put the car into gear and pulled out of the parking lot smoothly. The car was still blessedly silent as they started down the open road, Hotaru not making a sound, as she no doubt would for the remainder of the drive. Maybe life wasn't so bad after all.

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Nonoko pulled up in front of the gas station, spotting Sumire's car from the highway, and pulling in to regroup. She'd been having a sort of less of an experience hanging out with her friends today than usual. Sumire hadn't been quick enough to call dibs on passengers (a fact she would probably agonize for the rest of her life because Sumire was like that) and so had been stuck with the 'psychotic duo' whilst Nonoko scored the slightly less worrisome load than she could have gotten (the rules stated that whoever drove Mikan and Hotaru did not have to take Luna too, so Nonoko escaped by the skin of her nose with that one). She had had a fairly nondescript drive so far (Misaki had fallen asleep after about five minutes and Anna was eccentric at worst and normal at best), and whistled cheerfully as was her way when filling up the tank.

Sumire came over (she was paler than usual and Nonoko had to wonder just what Hotaru and Mikan had been putting her through. She looked suspiciously at the back of a black-haired head she spied through the back window of the car. She couldn't see Mikan) and leant against the car. She looked almost guilty but not quite and Nonoko was confused.

"Hey, how was your morning?"

"I've had worse. Where are the others?"

"Inside, probably buying enough confectionary to rot a piano. Is Mikan in there too?"

Sumire stilled, and looked at her with surprise. "Mikan? How would I know?" Nonoko blinked.

"She's riding with you, why wouldn't you know?"

Sumire watched her with a kind of fascinated dawning dread. Hotaru had deigned to exit the car and came up behind her, hearing the last sentence of the conversation. Her eyes clouded briefly with confusion, then cleared almost instantly.

"Moron," she snorted. Sumire dropped her head against the pole holding the fuel pump and began to laugh slightly hysterically. "You mean to say," She gasped, "You did not see Mikan waiting for you at Guinea Palace?"

Nonoko shook her head slowly, the situation coming to bear in her mind. Sumire continued, "So if she wasn't there, and she's not here, and no one picked her up, where is she?" Hotaru huffed crossly and pulled out a cellphone, muttering under her breath. She dialed Mikan's number. Nonoko blinked some more. Sumire stopped laughing and slumped in sudden inexplicable exhaustion as she tended too. The laughter of Misaki and Anna came to them, and Nonoko spied them coming out of the servo. Hotaru was talking to someone now in an irritated voice that was clearly not even slightly concerned and Sumire was inspecting her nails. Suddenly the niggling feeling in the back of Nonoko's mind that had been telling her something was wrong came to bear and a thought presented itself to her. She turned on Hotaru and Sumire.

"Wait, did you try to dump Mikan on me?"

She said at the same time Hotaru spat,

"You wait for Nonoko! You don't hitch hike in the wrong direction!"

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><p><strong>Now they're on they're way and things are starting to pick up! I promise there will be some of our favourite boys in the near future so sit tight and wait for the next chapter! I'll try to make it not as long in coming but I'm a lazy person and I can't give a set time frame :(<strong>

**If you could review I'll be eternally grateful. : ) lots of love lovely readers.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Sorry it took me so long to get this chapter up! I doubt anyone even remembers this story any more . . . Anyway the story's about to start for real (finally) so I hope you guys like the new chapter! :)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Gakuen Alice or any associated characters and settings**

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><p>.<p>

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Mikan hummed cheerily. She had a tasty cheeseburger meal to munch, her new friend Bob the truck driver had paid for her meal before he'd left, Sumire and Hotaru were coming to pick her up, the sun was shining, she was on holiday and everything was right with the world. Her good mood was also helped along by the simply gorgeous blonde boy checking her out from the window booth. At least she thought he was checking her out. Mikan stopped humming cheerfully. True her eating face was not her most attractive, but did that really warrant the confused frown on the guy's face? She spun around suddenly and looked at him head on. She used her thinking face, cheeseburger forgotten, to scrutinize him.

But god was he pretty. Mikan's thinking face became slightly dazed and she was lost in his big blue eyes, fine, chin-length blonde hair, long legs and a straight nose. Very princely, he was. Mikan approved. Then she realised he'd gone from initial surprise at her blatant staring to slightly nervous and a bit worried. Mikan was at a loss. Then she remembered what Sumire told her about her thinking face resembling a fierce scowl that was slightly pained and decided to stop thinking. Her face relaxed, and so did the lovely boy. He didn't start frowning again, and he didn't look away. Mikan returned his embarrassed, tentative smile with a full-blown grin. Mikan was a firm believer in attacking things head on.

"Wanna eat with me?" She hollered across the McDonalds. His eyes popped and he jumped slightly. Mikan laughed loudly. The boy looked down, red flushing his face and neck, and then seemed to take several deep breaths and look up again. Mikan smiled at him, ignoring the other customers watching them. She gestured very unsubtly with her head and raised her eyebrows suggestively. He sat down beside her a moment later, still flushed with embarrassment, but smiling anyway.

"Hello gorgeous, Mikan's the name," she stated without shame. His mouth dropped for a moment and he was stunned (she'd like to think it was by her own gorgeous face and bod, but odds are he was having a Sumire moment where, and she quotes, 'all his thoughts just flew out the window and blew up on the lawn because her voice was annoying and loud and fucking hell, why were they talking?'). Anyway, she digresses, he was at a loss.

"Ruka, it's, uh, nice to meet you."

Mikan slipped her hand into his offered palm, and then proceeded to slide her fingers over his hand and forearm with an innocent, genial smile. The embarrassment in his cheeks had cooled to give way to helpless, put upon amusement. She'd bet a boy as pretty as him was used to being felt up. Then she stopped because she hadn't finished her cheeseburger yet and by god if anything would ever come between Mikan and her food. For reals mother fucker, their bond was legit.

"Any particular reason you were frowning at me babe?" She asked around a mouthful of cheeseburger. Ruka was looking at his arm where she'd touched it. He glanced up when she spoke, resting his arm on the bench.

"I thought you looked familiar. Sorry if I was staring. I'm pretty sure we've never met before now; I'd remember a pretty girl like you." Ruka smiled and was blindingly gorgeous and charming and Mikan was temporarily blinded. _Holyfuckmethisboyisfuckinghot! _As she waited for her sight to return, Mikan vowed to get a picture with him and throw it in the face of her friends that she was the first one on this trip to bag a hot sexy guy for fun times. Unless of course Misaki had managed to hook up with truck driver sometime this morning which Mikan wouldn't put past her because Misaki was a slut. And very good-looking. Y'know, Mikan had this idea (as she was telling Sumire the other day because Sumire's always around when Mikan has these crazy amazing thoughts. Hotaru usually is too but she's liable to attack Mikan every time she directly addresses her) that sometimes she really actually wished she was a lesbian so she could get it on with Misaki. And maybe all her other friends too cause they were hot as well. For reals.

"-Kan? Mikan?"

"Shit, what? Were you saying something honey?"

Mikan abruptly realised her sight was back and that the male meals-on-wheels before her was looking at her strangely, with concern. A look Mikan was used to because it was Nonoko's 'love, you're vacantly staring with your mouth full and open again' look that she always gave her whenever they were doing anything.

Ruka's face cleared and he laughed easily, "You cut off in mid-sentence, I was wondering if you were okay." Mikan looked at him blankly. "I did? What was I saying?" Ruka brought his eyebrows together in a look of simply orgasmic confusion and gestured unsurely with his hands.

"Something about slutty truck drivers taking photos of lesbians . . .?"

Yeah. Sometimes Mikan had word vomit when she got mentally distracted. It would be embarrassing but then sober thoughts are drunken words so it's her just desserts. That makes sense in her head. Or something. For reals. Hmm, Mikan should provide a distraction and pretend it never happened. That's what she did when stuff got embarrassing and/or weird. Like that time she woke up in a full-body hot pink snow suit in Misaki's mouldy bathtub (Misaki was a slob in that she was a total slob) after a night with the girls.

"I'm eighteen, just finished school, I like hamsters and I have two, yes I'm naturally this hot and no I don't think modesty is a virtue worth having," Mikan said happily. Then added "Unless of course you're Misaki and a total whore biscuit," as an afterthought. Ruka just smiled again (probably his default response to uncomfortable social situations, of which Mikan seemed to create many). There was a pause in which Mikan was certain Ruka was going to stand and leave. She had reached this turning point in almost every conversation she had ever been in, and most seemed to end in the other party leaving.

"I'm nineteen, finished school last year in France, on holiday with friends for a couple of months, have a dog and I have no idea who Misaki is." Ruka said; his blue eyes were wide and filled with humour. Mikan would describe them in a more poetic manner but that would come off as pretentious and clichéd. Mikan shrugged in response to his last words, her delight that he was choosing to talk to her rendering her response far too loud and enthusiastic.

"Nobody actually knows Misaki because even though she gets around like hay fever in spring she uses a seasonal alias, so no one can figure out it's her giving them annoying symptoms. Sometimes she also gets around like heat rash and that's not fun for anyone." There was an awkward pause, one Mikan felt pressured to break in an obnoxious manner.

"So! Where are you heading?" She gestured around the servo-McDonalds with wildly gesticulating hands that resembled more of an upper body flail than a gesture because she was concentrating on what she was saying and her motor control sort of broke from its cage and took flight out the metaphorical window whenever she started to concentrate too hard. Ruka ducked to avoid a back-handed slap to the face.

"Down to the beach for a couple of weeks. We're celebrating school being out for some of my younger friends," he replied politely, another charming smile on his face. Mikan did her rape face and tilted her chin at a retarded angle.

"Really?" She warbled (highly attractively in her mind; it was probably pretty horrific in real life but meh, whatever bro. Get out of her face and into her pants) suggestively. Ruka blinked. Mikan smiled somewhat normally.

"Uh . . ."

Mikan's phone vibrated in her pocket and she pulled it out instantly, because the awkward silence was all of a sudden knocked up with an awkward twin and it was very awkward. Almost an awkward level: penguin, kind of awkwardness.

_Parked outside dumb ho. don't keep us waiting or we'll leave you here._

Mikan beamed and put her phone away. Hotaru came to pick her up, which must mean . . . she did care! Oh how Mikan loved her best friend. What a dear of a best friend she was. Even if she did beat Mikan up and call her names and eat her food and blow her off whenever she tried to have a conversation and send her really short texts. At least she wasn't a bacon sandwich. Cause then Mikan would eat her and Hotaru would be obligated to beat the crap out of Mikan for eating her. That would possibly be a dark day in their friendship.

"Uh, Mikan?" Asked Ruka uncertainly. Mikan uncrossed her eyes.

"Photo? Of you and me? What a great idea!" She cried delightedly, giving Ruka her biggest smile. She whipped out her phone from her bag again, where she had put it back for safe keeping because Mikan could never keep it in her pants. Ruka blinked yet again, his eyebrows pulled into a bemused half-frown. Then his expression cleared with comprehension.

"It is," he said, a smile slowly spreading across his face. Mikan found his lovely expression infectious and smiled back, with considerably less charm and an unattractive number of extra teeth showing. She slung an arm around Ruka's neck, kissed him smack on the mouth, slipped a piece of paper with her number (and name and a few naughty drawings) into his pocket and snapped a shot as she did. She bounced out of the peck with fervour and leapt to her feet, energy entirely boosted. Ruka watched her, pretty darling that he is, with wide eyes and red cheeks.

"Bye Ruka! It's been fun, but ergo, or whatever, I must leave you my dear!" She chirped over her shoulder, prancing over to the doors with her phone thrown into her bag. Unfortunately she tried to go out the 'in' automatic sliding doors and collided with unyielding glass when the sensor failed to pick up her movement unexpectedly. Mikan picked herself up from the floor good-naturedly and, with another wink and 'call me' hand gesture at a dumbfounded Ruka, flounced out the right doors and into the parking lot.

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"I hate you."

"Hn."

"I genuinely hate you so much."

"Hn."

"If I were to rate the hatred I feel for you on a scale of 1 to 'I hope you get molested', it would be 'fucking die'."

"And if I were to rate my care factor from 1 to 'shut the fuck up', it would be 'suck a dick'."

Natsume flipped the page of his brand new action manga (manga, not cartoon. Fuck you Koko) disinterestedly. It was actually pretty boring, not even really worth the bargain ten dollars he paid for it (shut up Ruka, a bargain's a bargain). It was not the best way to distract himself from the short ball of furious energy across the lounge room. Aoi said nothing more, but assumed 'the pose'. Natsume felt his eye twitching. She was not. She wouldn't dare. But indeed she had. Her little fists were on her hips, her feet were planted firmly on the ground and her face was screwed into an expression of utter disdain. It was a blatant challenge (pride was an issue in his family for everyone but his father. Aoi knew damn well he wouldn't be able to ignore her looking down on him) and his eye twitched further.

He pointedly took a deep breath and turned the page again. His little sister glared at him unrelentingly at where he sat on the couch from the kitchen, her red eyes sparking furiously, the weight of her gaze like a physical heat on his face. This was always a bad sign with Aoi; she was liable to do anything in this state (the kitchen knives in particular looked too close for his comfort) Natsume sighed inwardly and gave in.

"Fine, what's wrong?"

"You told mum and dad you unbelievable jerk," she grit out between clenched teeth, with not even a hint of the usual triumph at goading him into responding. A tingle of apprehension went down Natsume's spine. Shit was serious now. He chose his words and tone carefully.

"Told them what?" he asked as disinterested and patronisingly amused as he could manage. Aoi took a furious huff of breath.

"You're going to pretend you don't know anything about it?" She spat disgustedly, advancing a few steps. Natsume kept a wary eye on her clenched fists (because they may start flying towards his face at any second).

"About what?" he asked again in the same tone, an inkling of what this was about coming to him.

"ABOUT AKIRA YOU UNBELIEVABLE TATTLE-TALING BUTTMUNCH!" Aoi shouted furiously, her face flushing to match her eyes.

Ah. Natsume's mouth twisted involuntarily into a sneer. Tonouchi Akira; a person the world would be better off without by all accounts. He could remain entirely free of guilt where Tonouchi Akira was concerned. He closed the manga soundly and got to his feet, taking the time to stretch leisurely while Aoi steamed (it gave him no small amount of satisfaction).

"He's a womanising scumbag in college. Of course I told mum and dad," he sneered derisively. "He could have done anything to you, being the kind of guy he is." Aoi hissed, apparently managing to rile herself up even more with his clear dismissal of the subject.

"He is NOT that kind of guy Natsume! You don't even know him!"

"Neither do you," he muttered under his breath. Aoi ignored him.

"You did it because you don't like him! Do you realise how selfish that is?" She spat furiously. Natsume felt himself turn around almost unwillingly and meet her glare for glare. Aoi looked taken aback for a moment so he pressed his advantage.

"Selfish? I did it for you! Out of brotherly concern and love," he said forcefully, "That I, personally, think he should be thrown under a bus has nothing to do with it." He crossed his arms and stared her down. "If you aren't going to look out for yourself baby sister, don't be surprised when I do it for you." Aoi faltered under his disapproving frown, and he thought she might back down completely for a second. Then she let out a frustrated huff of breath.

"Your so-called 'brotherly concern has cost me an entire summer's worth of freedom! Do you realise just how much that sucks?" But the fire in her voice had faded to dull passive-aggressiveness; Natsume savoured a sweet victory.

"Maybe you shouldn't date inappropriate men our parents won't approve of," he suggested smugly, a contented smile of victory on his face. Any further resistance on her part would be for show. It served her right. No little sister of his would be seen with trash like Tonouchi unless it was over his dead body. He readied himself to leave. He had to finish packing some things and Yuu would be over to pick him up in an hour.

Aoi scowled. "I was going to tell them at the right time." She pouted sulkily.

"Yeah, like when you were an adult and it was actually legal," Natsume snorted, starting off towards his bedroom. He heard Aoi huff once more and dropped onto the couch behind him.

"Whatever," she muttered. The sound of daytime television followed him down the hall. It cut off once he entered his room, kicking the door closed behind him. An open suitcase sat on the bed and next to it a pile of clothes his dad had washed for him to pack. Natsume threw his manga to the side at his reading bean bag and sank onto the bed. He distractedly went through the pile of clothes, pulling out things he wanted to take.

The confrontation with Aoi was one of many they'd had since he'd returned home. It hadn't seemed like he'd spent a long time in France (work, learning the language, Ruka and school had kept him busy), but coming back, he'd realised a lot had actually changed. His old friends had all grown up, his parents had moved house, his mother had changed careers and Aoi had changed from a sweet little girl who hung on his every word to an independent, headstrong teenager who thought she could handle anything and didn't appreciate a henceforth absent influx of brotherly attention and protectiveness.

It wasn't that he ever doubted his decision to follow Ruka, even now, it was just that maybe he missed the old days growing up, where he and Aoi never disagreed, everyone knew everything about everyone else in their small school community and he lived in the house where he was born. Back when he knew a girl, who in turn, knew him better than anyone. But he hadn't seen her since he'd left, and that was six years ago. He was shaken from his (entirely characteristic) brooding by a knock on the door.

"Natsume darling? Are you finished packing yet? Yuu just called to say they decided to leave early, and he should be here in ten minutes. " His mother called from the other side, her voice an ever-constant mix of affectionate and sophisticated.

"I'm done." He called back. Kaoru opened the door in her 'casual' Sunday cocktail dress. "Would you like lunch before you go? Your father's cooking so it should be safe to eat." Her eyes crinkled at the corners as she laughed. Natsume grunted.

"That wasn't funny. We were all vomiting for an entire night," he frowned at her. Kaoru laughed again.

"That's why I don't cook anymore darling. I'll save you some if you're quick- though I'll have to fight Aoi for the mini spring rolls. She does love them." Kaoru left, leaving the door open behind her so Natsume could hear the sound of Aoi cajoling food from their tough-as-cotton-candy father. Natsume zipped up his suitcase and pulled it behind him as he left. As he passed the kitchen he saw his mother attempting to be domestic in a ridiculously fancy cocktail dress and breaking things, his father impersonating the iron chef and succeeding, and Aoi sitting at the kitchen bench with her puppy eyes on and numerous scraps of food on her plate.

Natsume hid his smile behind his shaggy hair. Evidently some things hadn't changed at all. He really did brood too much.

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Ruka Nogi felt like he had been slapped across the face, doused in ice-cold water and then slingshot into space. His cheeks felt flushed, his palms sweaty and his heart thundered away in his chest like he'd just run a marathon. Normally this might be an unknown medical concern, but Ruka knew better. He knew his ailment was nothing more than something suffered but multitudes of school girls all across the world. And he knew the cause of his could be described in two, simple words.

Mikan Sakura.

He was in love. Or damn near close anyway. Beautiful, slightly touched in the head true, but funny and vibrant and alive. His lips tingled and her number seemed to glow and beckon him from where it sat on the table. Ruka blushed harder when he realised that he was indeed suffering from what could only be described as a school girl's crush, on some chick he'd known for all of ten minutes. He stared at the ten digit number on the table some more, lost in thought.

When his phone suddenly rang, it made him jump violently. He fumbled quickly with his pocket and pulled it out, checking the caller id before answering.

"Hey Yuu, I'll be right out if you're here. Is everyone with you?"

"Yeah, you'd better hurry. Natsume's about to strangle Koko with his headphones," Came the harried voice of Yuu Tobita. Ruka laughed somewhat nervously.

"I'll be right out." He hung up and stared at the number for a few seconds more. The distraction of the phone call had gotten his blushing, gushing crush-fest under control, so he simply smiled at it.

"Mikan Sakura . . ." he mused. He picked up the number and slipped it back into his pocket on his way out.

It never occurred to him to wonder why she'd seemed so familiar at first.

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* * *

><p><strong>Did I just *gasp* write something remotely serious? I think I might have . . . Alas, this story now, apparently, has plot because Natsume wrote himself. Also I wouldn't mind a little feedback on whether you guys think he's in character if you don't mind :) <strong>

**I'll try to be quicker with the next chapter but I won't make any promises! XD**

**PS If you guys want a direct say in how I handle this situation I've started. . . there is a poll on my profile for you guys to have your input. :)**


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